Layers of Transparency
by Kisuru-chan
Summary: Sasuke settles at what remains of his old home at the Uchiha compound for the long haul, willing to live there under the village's supervision after his rise against it. Sasuke resurrects Itachi and promises they will be together. Sasuke's romantic advances are far from the brother he remembers, and Itachi's platonic feelings are tested. Themes of obsession and unrequited love.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Written as a Darkest Night 2018 exchange gift for Cerberusia.

There are 4 chapters. Dubious consent themes are mentioned. A later chapter has a fade to black notice for a smut scene. I will provide a link to the uncensored version then.

-()-

The breath of life drawn back into his lungs nearly suffocated him. Thickly, he coughed as the burn of oxygen returned to his lungs. He rolled on dirt, kicking up dust and chakra.

Itachi had forgotten reality's agony.

A hand was held out to him. The unstable chakra above him crackled. The raw energy circulated with unmistakable familiarity.

Itachi wasn't willing to accept the gesture.

"—unfair — tired — ready—" Sasuke's voice was distant in his ears. Come to think of it, he didn't think he was directly speaking to him.

Itachi was alive. What purpose did it serve?

After the resurrection, he was unamused. He had bid his farewells as per his wishes. Anger coursed within him. When Itachi found his bearings he would voice his discontent.

Like most things, he never did.

Feelings of separation weren't that simple.

The things that he pretended to ignore but cared for. The fact he hadn't seen Sasuke in who knows how long. The compulsion Itachi shouldn't discard this chance. There was more to the situation than what first met the eye.

He succumbed to his own devotion.

Instead, he took Sasuke's hand. The enormity of his brother's _relief_ was palpable. Slender yet blistered fingers clasped his wrist.

"Stay together from now on," Sasuke said. His words were rushed. He practically choked on them. The next bit was crystal clear, as much as a promise any. "Us. No one else."

Itachi exhaled. His thumb brushed his pulse point, and Sasuke's heartbeat thrummed.

Yes, Itachi had a traitorous urge to stay alive despite every principle of his original lifetime.

He should remain dead. Once back from the dead was too many times. Life always died no matter what. With reservations, though, he rejected his own harsh lesson from the Third Shinobi World War. It wasn't his selfishness that sealed the deal. Once he felt the plea of loneliness in Sasuke's actions, he forgot how to let go. His voice was honey — it had been forever since he had heard him spit the vitriol of revenge; even then it was well welcome — and the richness of it captured Itachi whole.

-()-

"Be careful," Sasuke warned.

"Look at who's talking after exerting yourself," Itachi remarked dryly. He wished he checked the cold ring to his tone, but circumstances forced him on-edge. The robe Sasuke had offered felt itchy on his skin, and he focused on that constant sensation to calm himself.

Really, they were both ragged, but Sasuke did everything not to show he was ruffled.

Itachi stepped onto the engawa and paused. Sasuke had a determined hold on his arm and carefully directed him to their destination.

The entire time Itachi had known where they were. He had hang-ups. His shortcomings were inextricably rooted, but he had chosen his fate. It was time to face it. Precisely, the ruin of bloodshed and responsibilities he had not laid eyes on since the age of thirteen.

The home he abandoned.

The cherry on top was Sasuke leading him to the door without once stopping, as though he believed Itachi had an honorable right. And he didn't have the will to protest in lieu of the gravity of his feelings. The atmosphere had an eerie scent of ancient chakra and iron and stale arguments that chafed old wounds.

The creak at the doorway gave it all away.

It was like a dream. As soon as they entered the living room, they both passed out from the exhaustion of walking the distance there, falling on the floor. Sasuke recovered before Itachi and arranged him so he was properly sitting in a chair when he woke up. Sasuke had the foresight to set out a pair of clothes at Itachi's feet, and he changed into them. He handed him a cup of tea and he sipped it.

Itachi didn't have to see to know it was dark outside. The cicadas were louder than the daytime. Apparently hours had gone by.

Not being able to see was new for Itachi – he had been near blindness before death. It was awkward to be near Sasuke and recall (what he had imagined to be) their last moments, but he made no mention of it immediately, and having Sasuke there was reassuring.

The tea burned his throat. It felt real. He did, too. He truly had committed himself to this.

"They'll leave us be," Sasuke murmured. There was a shift and a rustle. Again, he didn't sound like he addressed Itachi for answers, but he was the only one there.

Itachi looked over his cup as if to send him the signal to continue, but Sasuke didn't say anything else. He placed the bottom of the cup on his knee and heat burned his skin through the thin, black training pants.

"I want you to be a part of the village."

"No."

And the reasons went unarticulated, but Itachi knew he had not relinquished blame from Konoha's shoulders. He may never.

Sasuke was alone. And the truth he didn't actively reach out to any friends, let alone his previous team, became alarmingly obvious.

"I have what the village doesn't. They won't," Sasuke added. There was a pause, and Itachi was surprised he couldn't read his monotone. "I'll take care of you, nii-san. I always will."

The words were a scratched, bygone record. Itachi had done the same in the worst ways, but Sasuke wasn't cut from the same cloth.

For him, then, Itachi would ghost Konoha's grounds. A lifetime of pain could never be erased. For the time being, it was buried.

Itachi surmised Sasuke was confined to the village. Living on the compound's premises was the leniency allowed to him. Sasuke craved a semi-peaceful life, now. Itachi had himself to blame for their imprisonment.

In the end, Itachi has more to make up for.

At first their schedule was fairly routine. They reconnected. Itachi's doubts about surviving started to dissolve. He didn't have to fight or care about the outside world. Here, he cared about his own family. If he could be a pillar to Sasuke at the time he didn't have anyone, he was eternally grateful to be that person.

How time altered feelings and motivations.

But things changed one day — or, perhaps it wasn't quite so abrupt. Itachi realized he had gravely miscalculated something important.


	2. Chapter 2

Singlehandedly, Sasuke's most important revelation was that he could watch his older brother all day long and never tire of him. As time passed, he heeded Itachi's trepidation while he reacquainted with the house.

To Sasuke, his brother was reunited with a wonderland of memories. That was nice but he didn't feel the same cordial and homely connection. Regret in its ugliest form. It only renewed his pain to even walk in the house.

But he was . . . Well, saying he was airheaded stretched it thin, but Itachi was hesitant. He paused while organizing clothes like Mother. He ignored the places Father sat. Any areas they used to play as kids (the veranda, their rooms, the kitchen table) made Itachi's mind wander. He smiled in that muted, off-handed way of his while he thought about forgotten events, which set Sasuke's blood on boil.

He initially hated the fact his brother's sight was stolen. He carried his original eyes, and that gift was the most precious thing to him out of the powers that he possessed. Creating Itachi's body had been an obstacle, but the state of his eyes had been a complication to replicate due to the nature of his death. But it worked out for him; he loved how dependent Itachi had to be on assistance for the smallest mistakes. He called out for _his_ attention.

"Sasuke?" Itachi knelt. He reached out a hand, his face scrunched up a bit while he searched.

Sasuke sprang into action. He picked up the dropped scroll he accidently hit off the shelf, rolling it up for him. "Here it is," he said, to which Itachi shrugged half-sheepishly.

 _I'm his eyes_ , Sasuke thought, thrilled.

Yes. He liked the implications very much.

But Sasuke felt empty and impatient.

In time, Itachi adjusted to the absence of his eyesight. He needed his help but he was also balanced. It was their childhood home, after all. He adapted quickly, because he would not be Sasuke's competent brother if he didn't.

More! More trust. There wasn't enough.

Steadily, he didn't approve. And . . . Itachi was Sasuke's world. He wanted Itachi to need him in ways that he wasn't catching hints of. He had known. Always known he had felt this way. Itachi's obliviousness to it hit the nail.

-()-

As soon as he heard the tap of Itachi's foot against the stair, Sasuke leapt into action. He caught Itachi's wrist before he missed and tripped. Either Itachi was tired or not paying attention. Sasuke nonetheless thanked luck; it was an excuse to hold Itachi's hand. Itachi's thin wrist fit perfectly in his palm, his fingers wrapping around the bone. Slowly breathing in, he relished the small bit of skin contact.

"I'll help, you know," Sasuke offered.

Itachi sighed apologetically. "I can climb the stairs myself," he said teasingly. He clearly also wanted to show he was well-adjusted.

Again, he was too capable for his own good.

That bit of playfulness added to his charm. Sasuke was caught in its wake. He stared at him, eyes wide with arousal, body tense.

Almost everything about his older brother was as before the massacre except the addition of masculine definition to his features over the years. Now, Sasuke saw him up close and personal without the distance of a prolonged battle or cursed blood spoiling his face at this death; he was confoundingly _irresistible_ in plain view. He drank in the shine of his long, black hair, slightly shorter frame to his, and tantalizing peek of chest through his shirt.

Why had it taken until they had endured so many obstacles to be this blissfully close?

Dazed, Sasuke couldn't stop himself. For so long Sasuke had watched him, tolerant of his easing back into a new lifestyle. But his gaze on Itachi was sharper than that of even when his sharingan was activated. He desperately needed to touch him. Run both hands on his pale, cool skin in uncharted territory, do more than stop at platonic leisure. He kissed Itachi directly on the mouth. All else be damned.

Stupefied, Itachi staggered. His foot snagged on the edge of the stair. He collapsed into the railing. Not missing a beat, Sasuke grabbed his arm. Although Itachi couldn't see Sasuke, he understood, with flashes of no doubt, why Sasuke had always been intense and attached to him at the hip. It had always been right in sight but he had overlooked the signs.

Itachi frowned, and his chest tightened. "Sasuke." He was lightheaded and, to his horror, repelled he had gone that far.

"I'm done hiding this, nii-san." Sasuke wished he could say he was sorry. In truth, he was only sorry that he hadn't done it sooner.

Realistically, Itachi should be driven away. But Sasuke was encouraged. Itachi didn't outright look disturbed, and there may be a chance he wasn't positive of his feelings.

In that case, he should work harder!

-()-

Gradually, Sasuke sped down the dial of his stronger advances. He didn't like Itachi that put-off because of him. Neither could he fully contain himself. How can anyone in their right mind master an untamable need for Itachi?

Itachi was the only one. So, he went from the ground up and strategized. It started with touches on the arm or shoulder. Then, he proceeded to be as close to him as humanly possible whilst cooking or other chores. If he knew, Itachi would praise his self-discipline. Naturally, his efforts took effect. As time went on Itachi's desensitization to his stray touches became visibly more and more common.

Itachi surveyed the air between them and shot him stern or puzzled looks. Sasuke was pleased with the latter; he hoped Itachi would soon reciprocate his feelings. Itachi enforced some boundaries, though, and he banned Sasuke from entering his bedroom while he slept. That rule was nothing new — Itachi had demanded space after he came home from extended missions and he missed him — but Itachi pointedly making late night cuddling off-limits was grating this time. He didn't want to rush him, but he seriously _did_.

-()-

Itachi sighed, and he thought back.

Reuniting with Sasuke over the past handful of weeks and settling back into a semi-normal life was the best he could have ever imagined. Nothing compared to that, but Itachi couldn't deny that he was mentally drained more often than memories served of dangerous missions from the past. That was certainly something.

He covered himself with the futon's cover, removing the band in his hair. He was ready to forget. Eventually, Sasuke would stop.

The door to his room slowly opened.

"Do you need anything for the night?" Sasuke asked. He stepped into the room far enough that his slipper crunched the tatami mat.

"No," Itachi assured. And he meant it. He was content, pampered. _It's a disgrace for my son to grow this dreadfully soft. Stop squandering your potential!_ Father's gruff aversion to his passive actions scolded. Perhaps Father would be disappointed in him if he saw his daily routine with Sasuke. Despite protests, Itachi was exhausted after Sasuke ran hand-and-foot for him all day. To please him when he was especially wound-up that he wasn't doing enough, Itachi humored him for little things. Besides, every single day was better than the previous with Sasuke purely there. "You've done enough. It's late, so go to sleep."

To his dismay, Itachi did not hear the door slide back into place. Itachi braced himself. Rising to expectations, Sasuke's footfalls echoed across the room. He stayed rigid and upright as he plopped down on the bed.

Sasuke cupped Itachi's chin. His other hand threaded through his hair, pulling him closer. Itachi's tear lines looked even longer down his cheeks in the moonlight. And his warm skin, marble and smart, overtly intoxicating.

With such a minor touch, he starved for more. An inch of his delectable skin wouldn't entirely sate his unquenchable thirst. Try, he must. Sasuke wanted to shower him in the care he deserved for the night! Now that they were in the thick of it, Sasuke's stark desires became unbearable. And Itachi actually presumed he would silently wallow back to his own room when there was ample room to share?

"Nii-san, don't you understand? I'm awake at night. I think about you. I dream about you." His throat felt raw. He couldn't tear his gaze from his brother's gorgeous face. Sasuke's lips were inches from Itachi's, and his breath ghosted his cheek. "I've always loved you. The past is behind us. I-I—" Itachi's final poke, goodbye, and the treatment of unfair choices handed to him on a platter flashed before his eyes. Sasuke's snarl rose deep in his throat. Itachi had accepted it. He couldn't! "I can't . . . Please, stop torturing me!"

"Don't say that," Itachi whispered, deadpan. His devotion was oddly endearing but also inordinate while he had Itachi cornered. "You're confused. Don't delude yourself."

"Confused? What, and don't say I love you? Shall I start lying to you?" Sasuke laughed resentfully, chest heaving at the absurdity. "I grew up while you were gone, nii-san. I'm not trapped in a genjutsu. I know what I see."

The sound of finality in Sasuke's voice drove an ice shard down Itachi's spine. How much he had changed. Itachi stiffened. Usually, he knew the exact method to neutralize an outside threat. But when the culprit was his little brother himself, his resolve fell short. Yet Itachi couldn't give into this behavior.

"I want you." Sasuke's arm encircled his waist, and he pressed himself against Itachi's side. "How many times must I tell you until you believe it? It's painful. I need you. _Badly_."

"Listen to me, Sasuke—"

"At least let me sleep next to you!"

Halfheartedly, Itachi swatted away Sasuke's hand and scooted towards the edge of his bed. It was a weak effort, but he was too tired to counter or rationalize Sasuke's feelings to him. The shock of Sasuke's advances had waned. If anything, he saw his own brokenness and awkwardness mirrored in Sasuke's actions.

Itachi stood. He couldn't decide how to handle putting him down gently except brush it off. In life he had been cold and standoffish. He must be firm. Neither was this his or Sasuke's, true intentions for each other. He couldn't stay and give him the wrong impression.

Sasuke was currently in a phase, that's all. One day, he would find someone special. That person wasn't named Itachi. In the present, he was a rebound for Sasuke's misplaced feelings; he trusted him now, and he didn't know how to properly show affection. He needed to redefine his life and leave the compound for a fresh breath of air. Perhaps taking care of him so often was stunting Sasuke's growth in that regard, too.

Itachi had considered this happening. But he needed Itachi there and that defeated him.

"Don't make mistakes you'll regret."

Sasuke watched him shuffle out of the room without incentive for an argument. Sasuke's fists balled. He glowered at his receding back and the wall of rejection slammed in his face.

Itachi had saved him. He had to repay him.

As far as he was concerned, the final straw was severed. Sasuke would descend into insanity beyond of which confined him to the village should this madness continue.

Nothing would be regretful for Itachi's sake.

He wasn't a mistake.

-()-

Admittedly, Sasuke had never especially paid attention to romantic gestures. The obnoxious fangirls from Academy days had shoved lush Valentine's Day presents in his face. Mind, the gifts were none of which Sasuke returned.

So he was sparse on ideas for luring Itachi even a little bit into any type of plan. He liked candy? Mere candy would get him nowhere.

Hand on his elbow, he watched his brother idly stir his morning coffee. The scent of Itachi's home cooking was appetizing and his fingers cradled the stick so tenderly. Alas, Sasuke hoped for nothing more than Itachi whisking his body into a similar frenzy.

Wait.

If there was one thing that Sasuke thanked Orochimaru for at that point, it was the cord of inspiration that struck at that moment. He had seen him stir enough of his experiments to realize that he could do the same thing.

He looked it up, briefly—effects of foods with properties for sexual enhancement. Preferably, drinks. Itachi had a thing for teas or coffees. It was skeptical. Theoretically, they should help, but Itachi would sniff it out like a breeze. Not exactly the grand finale he was aiming for. Then he wouldn't trust him with dinner.

Still, this was one thing he was able to bypass Itachi's radar of boundaries with. The creative way to handle the drink would work itself out.

Yes, Itachi forced his hand a notch.

-()-

"I can go," Itachi told him. He had a pen and notepad in hand. "We need a few things."

Sasuke's hand clutched at the doorframe. Usually, he was sly about slipping out to the village, but Itachi caught him. He smiled — he was so considerate — and shook his head. He pried the list from his hands and skimmed it. Moreover, he hated Itachi leaving the house in a disguise and interacting with _them_. To be safe, it was best for his brother to stay put.

"Maybe next time," he called. He jumped on the grass before Itachi gave a rebuttal.

Later, Sasuke placed the ingredients on the counter. He had bought groceries for a few days. Today, though, he had brought a few secret items that were to his immediate interest he wouldn't let Itachi put away.

For a while he hesitated. It indeed was wrong. Forcing Itachi. He wasn't inhumanly obtuse like _they_ were, and he would be damned if the village rubbed off on him and he caused his brother suffering. Waiting for Itachi to cozy up to him cracked the ice he skated on, though. Worse, he was missing the best sex of his lifetime and didn't even know it! He had to remedy that mishap for Itachi's sake.

Yes, he may as well give him a boost. Get him in the mood and loosen his nerves about the whole thing—which wouldn't be that out of the question? Yeah. Not at all. He wouldn't hurt him. Just moderately help him along.

Surely he was playing coy. He loved him. At some point, Itachi would fall _in_ love too. That was how it worked, wasn't it? Real love.

What a comfort. He had a goal.

Sasuke mixed the ingredients together, moving the wooden spoon in the glass cup deliberately. The color gradually darkened to a reddish-orange color. No matter how many times he tried, he failed to make it the way he had read up on. The sips he took of the drink didn't taste the way it was supposed to, although he was predictably even _more_ aroused testing it, imagining Itachi take the cup from him and chug the entire thing.

Not bad for a first try.

How would Itachi react to the aphrodisiac? Would he lament he hadn't gotten over his inhibitions sooner? Might he purr that he will fuck Sasuke hard on top of it? Indefinitely, dirty talk would be agonizingly delicious, especially from his reserved brother.

"Throw me a bone! In your deep voice, why won't you say . . . Please, nii-san. . . ."

Abandoning the task at hand, Sasuke put his back to the countertop and unzipped his fly. He pulled himself out and stroked from the head down the base, panting, throwing his head back. He enjoyed every bit of pleasure. Not enough. It wasn't nearly! The temptations of wish-fulfilment genjutsu sex dawned on him in order to get in quick relief. He scoffed. That was an insult. Fakes wouldn't do it for his needs. No, the real person was worthy, only—the genuine article that evaded him.

Itachi's face flashed in the back of his mind and sparked the tip of the iceberg of his lust. When he came, it was brilliant and downright satisfying, high off the power and control.

Eyes narrowed, Sasuke glanced at the cup. It was not an exemplary sample—the lumpy texture was not something he would drink on sight. But the important thing was, he had the key for concocting the salvation to his problems, and he would mix something better. Only the finest for his brother would suffice.

The clock on the wall signaled it was time to check on Itachi. It was his main priority. For tonight, he would dream about possibilities, and he was sated with this one solution.

Itachi would be his.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N** : I cut 2,728 words of explicit content from this chapter. If you wish to read the scene, you can search for the handle Kisuru at AO3 and look for my Naruto fics.

You don't necessarily need the scene to understand the last chapter. It is a turning point, though.

-()-

Itachi rubbed his eyes. Thirsty, he exited his room. He tip-toed down the staircase to the kitchen, and he wandered to the cupboard.

Tiredly, he searched for a clean cup, but not finding a useable one, he went to the sink. His hand bumped into a glass on the counter. Fumbling to grab it before it knocked over, Itachi's palm enclosed around it. Whatever was inside sloshed the back of his hand.

Now that he looked back, he forgot the cup while washing the dishes. He should be less clumsy next time. There was no use letting the drink go to waste in the meantime.

Quickly, he downed the contents of the drink. Biting down on the rim, he made a face. It was . . . certainly not his. Rich, thick and creamy, although overall bitter with a grit of ginger and lemon . . . a faint dash of honey? Whatever it was, Itachi's taste buds were not privy to Sasuke's peculiar drink choices.

Once he washed the cup out, Itachi turned on his heel. But he stopped cold. His heart wildly thudded in his chest. A river of heat bolted up from his stomach in waves across his body.

His hand trembled, and he did alongside it. Itachi wheezed. Mindlessly, he flailed for the counter's edge for support. It didn't fix things in the long run. He dropped to his knees and rested his head on the smooth surface. He breathed in once, twice, three times, but he could not control the feverish onslaught.

-()-

Even a few hours after he taste-tested his creation, Sasuke's system whirred. He had not thought sips from the aphrodisiac would excite him that exponentially, but there he was none too relieved, irritable and awake.

Fantasizing about Itachi fucking him straight into his own empty bed only got him so far.

Hopefully, Itachi was fast asleep. He was a light sleeper, but he would exercise stealth. What his unaware brother didn't know in the middle of the night wouldn't be a bother.

When he approached his room, the door was already ajar. He bristled, but Sasuke relaxed the moment he didn't hear a noise. He crept inside. Slowly, he knelt next to Itachi's bed. He scooted close until he laid on the outskirt of the blanket. The bed was warm. It was too warm for one person to occupy. The blanket smelled just like Itachi's rich scent. His cheek nuzzled the edge of the soft pillow. He sighed, forcing himself not to reach for his brother. The urge to bury his nose deep in the curve of Itachi's collarbone was so strong he resisted and dug nails into his palm. No, he couldn't screw this up! He must restrain himself.

Lying near Itachi was the only way to cure it. He laid out on his back, fingers creeping down his stomach, palming the tent of his pants to get started. No replacement rivalled knowing Itachi was next to him in direct view. Maybe Sasuke wouldn't leave. He may actually . . . yes, sleep there until the morning before Itachi woke up. A surely genius plan!

He listened for the regular sound of Itachi breathing. Breathing was good—Itachi was excited for him! He heard nothing. Odd.

The faint sound of glass shattering brought Sasuke back to his senses. He jerked to a sit, vaguely wondering if a burglar was there to find something valuable from the abandoned, half-ruined compound. Someone may have a grudge with him for any number of reasons, too. Why tonight? Irked, he braced himself. He would kick the ever living daylights out of them for daring to distract him from Itachi (or, at least demonstrate enough self-defense that they wouldn't claim he broke his bargain and harmed a villager out of spite. Sasuke liked his current lifestyle, thank you very much).

Right. Itachi wasn't lightly breathing.

That meant, then . . . An accident? In the glow of moonlight on Itachi's bed, he realized he was not there. Sasuke didn't hear anything else afterwards. He went to investigate.

Sasuke flicked the kitchen light on. The light burned his eyes, and he squinted. "What—"

And that was how he found his indomitable, proud, and composed older brother kneeling. He gripped the leg of the kitchen table. His head was bowed, and he heavily breathed, body shaking. The vase and flowers on the table they used as a semblance of decoration for visitors was splintered on the floor.

Itachi glanced upwards at him as he walked in, wide-eyed and . . . Sasuke's heart leapt in his chest. That was not the natural expression Itachi always showed him. It wasn't calm or collected. No, his face was sinfully aroused with his mouth gaping open and cheeks flushed. Vestiges of Itachi's weakening force to fight the urge were clearly visible too.

"Sasuke."

Itachi's body seared like fire at every angle, and his mind became fuzzier, and he couldn't stop the intensity. He hated not being able to hold himself to standard. Why couldn't he fight this? His skin prickled, and there was a surge of impending hunger accumulating deep within him that demanded he give into baser instincts. Under the circumstances, he was more or less at its harsh mercy. He didn't realize how invested he was until he grasped Sasuke's leg and pulled him towards him.

The warmth of Sasuke's skin through the fabric of his clothes sent a flare of need within Itachi. That, yes that, was his desire. Deep down, he was furious with himself for allowing this to take place. The thought was stamped out in the ebbing haze of desperation.

Fleetingly, Sasuke felt a smidge of guilt. He had not intended for this to happen . . . Yet. After all, he had planned to be there from the start and watch it take effect! Why was fate so cruel to him he hadn't seen Itachi unravel around the steams from the beginning?

More importantly, there was a thread of hope.

It was reasonable, wasn't it? The concoction was meant to amplify Itachi's libido. If he was opposed, though, he wouldn't hang on Sasuke like a lifeline. For Sasuke, it stood to chance Itachi harbored similar lust but he had locked in a chamber deep within his heart. And there was no greater motivator than that fact.

"Do you want me, nii-san?" he asked. The restlessness within Sasuke rekindled ten times over, and his expression darkened. All he wanted to do was ravish him. Endlessly, it was gratifying to feel him press up against him. "Do you really, really want me?"

"Sasuke." He tried to sound serious, but he croaked instead, and he didn't know how to temper it. Sasuke's voice echoed in his ears — that persuasive richness of his voice which drew Itachi in and refused to release him.

"You never let me touch you intimately. It's maddening. You know I can't live without you," Sasuke continued. He knelt. Despite Itachi's mental mantra not to go any further, he snatched the hem of Sasuke's shirt.

Sasuke smiled. The longer he drew this out, the more delightfully Itachi's lust grew. He had to make the most of this opportunity. "You always pull away from me. You leave me alone when I want to be with you." He lifted Itachi's chin, and yes, the raspy rise in his breath when he touched him was alluring. "It's about time we settle this. Tell me. You can't resist me. You absolutely want me."

Sasuke's hand was a leverage back to reality, and his overwhelming shame about his own last living blood relative. The brother he had sworn to live with and make happy no matter what. At times like this Itachi was frustrated he couldn't see Sasuke's face. Gauge his tone and reaction together. What if he did? Why did he so badly want to see his face now?

Something inside him was apprehensive. It was sprung tight, different from the heat.

Was this Sasuke's true happiness?

He was in control of his thoughts enough to evaluate that last precipice of a decision.

Perhaps this was what he deserved. Itachi lived at the compound as though he belonged there; he deprived Sasuke of an essential need he apparently craved far more than he did, and he should not put himself above that of Sasuke's own; but, worse of it, he wasn't sure if he wanted to fight his inner demons. The act of it, the adrenaline, was all the more appealing as he denied it. It was too many moral gymnastics to cycle through.

The exertion of it sped up the adrenaline racing rampant in his veins. "Just—"

"Just?"

"Do what you want."

Sasuke snorted and rolled his eyes.

Oh, but that wasn't responsive. That was all too apathetic! Itachi strained to keep himself level-headed, and Sasuke didn't expect less of the former ANBU captain and Akatsuki member. He was the resilient brother he always admired. But sheer willpower would not get him fulfilling his lustful instincts.

He wanted his brother a carnal disaster.

Sasuke dropped eye-to-eye with him. Itachi tensed. He touched his bare arm and traced a path up his forearm. His skin was unsettlingly hot. He kept going and put a palm on Itachi's chest, rubbed motions up and down his thin night shirt, teased the outline of hard nipples. Sharp arousal jolted Itachi's groin, and he sucked in a breath, eyelids snapped shut.

Itachi couldn't take it anymore.

His lips crashed against his. The kiss was sloppy and tricky to find purchase. Clumsily, Sasuke kissed the corner of Itachi's mouth, and at the angle their noses collided, but they barely registered the pain. It became a game of who adjusted first. Itachi's mouth opened and his tongue, slick and frenzied, touched his. Sasuke slotted their lips together. Itachi grunted, awakened to heat and moisture.

Not one bit of disapproval from Sasuke.

Sasuke's hand latched on Itachi's chest and bunched his mesh shirt in his fist. His leaned in and examined every inch of his pale face while relishing the euphoric rush thatthis-was-about-to-happen. He was about to do things with his brother he dreamed would come to fruition. Despite that he had kissed previously, none of the people from those encounters were remotely special in hindsight. In his eyes, they were cheap substitutes for the feast; their worthlessness was beneath Itachi completely. Here, he considered such experiences build up for Itachi's pleasure.

Dull alarm bells rung in Itachi's head. He still shouldn't give into impulse. Those inhibitions be damned—his mind was too far gone! Itachi eagerly deepened it. His tongue pushed past the entrance of Sasuke's silky lips, greedily tasting him. Sasuke's head tilted backwards. He relaxed, melting as though a heady trance were cast on him. His tongue darted over his own and explored places no one ever had in the meticulous, brazen degree Itachi did.

 _Why can't you always be this enthusiastic_? Sasuke thought. _Always . . . for me_. . . .

He thrived on the fact that Itachi's attention was solely trained on him. If he wasn't hard already, he was as hard as diamonds upon that view of Itachi's lust. And, to Sasuke's glee, Itachi was as hard as he was when his knee brushed against his leg. All too ready and losing control, his thigh scooted inwards and smacked the front of his pants.

The stimulation caused Itachi to shudder. A song of urgency blared in his mind, and he no longer held back the cracking floodgates of it.

 **[fade to black]**

-()-

His neck hurt. He ached everywhere, too.

At first Itachi didn't know where he was. The floor under him was cold, and so was he, and pain minutely pounded the back of his skull.

Lethargically, he pushed himself up to his elbows—or, he would have if there wasn't a weight on his side. Instinctively, his brother bunched his shirt in a fist. Itachi did a double take, startled and awake within seconds, the past night's events flooding back to memory. The distinct scent of musk and dried come on his skin lingered as reminds of their actions.

Itachi smacked a fist on the floor. How had he allowed Sasuke to get the upperhand! Worst of it, taint his mind with further delusions?

On the other hand, he was nonplussed. The anger stemmed from a swell of anxiety in his chest. Why was that? He tricked him, likely – why was he distressed about discussing this with Sasuke? Why did he feel navigating the issue was an unbalanced tipping point for him? That was the strangest anomaly.

Sasuke was his brother, his only one.

The headache intensified. Itachi clutched his head. His mental image of Sasuke rippled.

"What would I see if I saw you?" he asked. "Or do I know the answer to that already?"

In all respects, he should get to the bottom of this mess; logic said he should shake Sasuke awake and demand an explanation. But he didn't know where to begin, although he was lost in the turmoil. To which feeling he most wanted to understand, he didn't know.

Eventually, he hoped he would decide.

Itachi pried Sasuke's hand off his side. He showed some resistance even while he slept, but he managed easily enough. He scooted away and fumbled to his feet. Wobbling, he stood, hesitating too long. His body ached _everywhere_. And yes, he had been drugged with an aphrodisiac — a potent aphrodisiac, at that. Usually seduction worked by itself on missions (most people were swayed by his good looks like a charmed snake) and Itachi had never used one on anyone himself.

That realization aside, why couldn't Itachi scrap up the energy and scream at him?

Sighing, he rubbed stress from his temples.

Slowly, he bent and scooped up Sasuke, arm under his legs and around his upper back. Most people would say he deserved to stay there after such a selfish stunt, but Itachi couldn't find it in himself to leave him on the hard floor. Although Sasuke also wore a shirt he flinched at the amount of uncovered skin. Yet he didn't feel as reluctant as he had . . . when? When had the prospect of touching Sasuke's bare skin become insignificant?

The room spun around him.

Grimacing, he walked up the stairs. Like usual, he was overthinking the entire incident.

Itachi deposited Sasuke in his bed. Minutes later, he staggered down the hall and into his own room and flopped on his bed. Lying on his back made him groan at the sharp ache; it wasn't until then he realized where he _exactly_ was sore. Gasping, he jolted on his side.

 _Sasuke's tongue was mind-numbingly fierce the farther he shoved inside his mouth. He showed no mercy. Itachi would bruise later from the way he held onto his inner thighs and squeezed his cock. The desire built up each time he drove in! He was sheathed in him; he filled Itachi up, hard. It was_ good.

The aphrodisiac lit up his system again, but Itachi shut it down with every ounce of his willpower, counting to about one hundred.

In truth, romantically loving Sasuke the same he adored him was condemnable. But it was beyond a shadow of a doubt the feelings were genuine. He should have been less dubious of the obviousness of it. Later, he would choose a method and salvage their relationship.  
 _  
That's the right way to handle this_ , Itachi thought. _It is what I should do. Isn't it_?


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey, nii-san? Did you fall asleep?"

Silence.

"Che. It's not even dark. I thought you might want to continue reading," Sasuke grumbled. Lopsidedly, he smiled to himself. "I see. You spent a long time cooking today, you know."

Still, Itachi did not respond.

Head tilting, Sasuke watched his outline for the merest twitch. When nothing unordinary happened, he hummed to himself, curious. He stepped up to the edge of Itachi's futon and knelt on the blanket. He dropped the scroll in his hand off to the side. "I'm not leaving."

His brother hovered above Itachi like a cloud obscuring the sunrise. There was no feeling of gloom. In fact, his presence was like a shield blocking the farthest skies around them, the unsettling things which may want to rip them apart twice. He sighed internally. _That goes without saying._ Itachi recalled the night he had left Sasuke alone on his bed. Now, he didn't move or indicate he heard him speak.

Increasingly, Sasuke was less certain he was pretending. At any rate, he had nothing to lose. Still agitated for Itachi's affection, he grabbed a handful of the blanket and peeled it back, exposing Itachi's black night shirt.

Itachi had been quieter than usual. And he may have asked for that? No, he would not take unplanned sexual attempts lightly. To curb suspicions of being deceitful in the future, Sasuke should have been careful about where he stored the first experiment and given his brother a properly tailored drink up front.

After all, whether or not he knew about the effects, the insulting thing was giving Itachi something worth less than he was himself.

But Sasuke hated the limbo Itachi stretched between them for the mishap. Even though it didn't seem he hated him. Was he hiding it? That may destroy him. Swallowing thickly, he decided it may as well be time to explain.

"Nii-san." Like a screw, his voice tightened, wavered. "Can I say something important?"

The question slackened Itachi's resolve. He didn't like remaining so passive while Sasuke confided in him — he sounded like a wounded animal seeking his comfort. A pregnant pause ticked between them. Finally, Itachi breathed through his nose a noticeable fraction louder.

Sasuke's eyes narrowed. He couldn't decide whether that was a confirmation or a well-timed snore. Either way, he didn't think he could keep his thoughts in order if he didn't make them known. Get them off his chest.

"You shocked me."

The manner in which he spoke was familiar yet feeble. His brother spoke to himself as though he addressed Itachi himself and also wasn't simultaneously. Bemused, Itachi fell into an uneasy trance, fully invested now.

Sasuke grit his teeth. "I thought you would be furious at me. For having revived you without respecting your wishes." Who would blame him? They had said goodbye. Not to mention Itachi scolded him often. "Know what? I really wanted you to be harsh and yell at me."

Itachi frowned. That was a first. Yes, he had considered doing more than yelling, but he hadn't mustered the willpower to do so. He couldn't figure out that mystifying reason.

Sasuke sighed. An old flare of bitterness rose up within him, and he hated himself for the pain interrupting their time together. "You have no idea, do you? How hard it was for me to keep my hands to myself. On that day, I wanted to do everything we've done. I barely contained myself. It hurt like hell. I almost lost my mind." He laughed a little too shrilly. "I hated everything. Still do. I did terrible things. I sacrificed those things for you!"

Itachi didn't know what to make of that confession. He had never wanted him to harbor emotional baggage quite to the degree he gleaned from the hints, but he was not surprised based on what he had heard and seen since being reanimated, and Itachi did not want to know the details of those terrible things right then. However, what stood out to him was Sasuke's prevalent oversaturation of pain and inability to govern it without him.

"I was scared of death without knowing I'd find you." Sasuke slipped under the blanket, throwing it over his side. It was so warm. He inhaled; Itachi smelled like the aroma of the dinner they had shared, and he was at peace. "Dying with you was my greatest hope if you rejected me. I was ready to go back with you to the afterlife; I won't be the 'heroic' person you intended. I expected no acceptance for bringing you back. But—" Emboldened since Itachi wasn't showing anger, his arm slipped around Itachi's waist. "You touched me."

He stiffened and let that sink in. He bit his lip until a bead of blood oozed to stop himself from reprimanding Sasuke, finally, because how could he _think_ of joining him? Fall into the same pit of death he had from pain? It was unforgivable. His blood seethed. On top of it, the crime that rattled him was that he believed he wouldn't . . . wouldn't. . . .

Be happy to see him?

The apprehension of reaching for Sasuke's hand replayed in Itachi's mind's eye. No, the action had been automatic. He hadn't known the act would be held in meaningful regard but the fact it was also equally pleased him. Up until then he had wanted to understand the enigma Sasuke became. Itachi did now.

"You brought me back to the present. I saw a future with us together, and I told myself I had to let things happen naturally. For you," Sasuke mumbled. His hand settled on Itachi's elbow. "So, thank you. I knew you would fall in love with me. I'm never letting you go."

Despite the façade to remain a stone statue, Itachi shivered. Is that what he thought – he had fallen in love with him upon his accord and inadvertently became the sole reason he bothered living. _Did this escalate beyond my ambitions?_ Itachi questioned, astonished. _  
_  
Sasuke's breath circled the shell of Itachi's ear. He lingered for several seconds. Then, he pressed himself against Itachi's back, molding his body to his turned frame. "Night, Itachi."

The room quieted. True to form, Sasuke relaxed, and his arms kept Itachi sheltered against him. Itachi listened to him mumble every once and while, and he mulled over his words. What they meant for him. In the end, there was one action to follow through on.

Immobile and drowned in a sea of raging, mismatch thoughts for countless minutes, Itachi shifted. Sasuke's hand dropped from his elbow and landed across his stomach. He paused at the feel of splayed fingers and his breath on his neck. He didn't move, or deny that he was comfortable like that. Letting his mind dim and block out every problem he may have had in his lifetime, the village's distant sounds lulled him into slumber.

-()-

 **A/N:** I want to address a line in this chapter. Sasuke says he does horrible things. That particular line is intended to imply a dark moment which may or may not have happened off-screen for the canon divergence aspect of this fic. However, I don't think he regrets what he tried to accomplish. He is broken here, and he may suspect Itachi would regret what he is referencing. Well, make of the line what you will.


End file.
